graceatthemargins

[graceatthemargins]

Christmas

A child is born. The weight of the Universe weighs him down fills him each nucleus able to birth A galaxy. —– There, he smiles, cries, as all babies must love pulsing through his soul a catalyst for change  if only we’d listen.

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The Healing Poet?  

(Inspired by R S Thomas) Dipping his head the poet drank from the depths of his soul, there in his woundedness lay memories of such pain, Remember me they cry, we can wound again, write us out, share our bane. ——– Still,      he wrote,  and I’ve heard, a despair sore, poems written, stored, but a lost souls connected with his canting one, sources new strength like a bird chiming in a…

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The Mirror

I looked, she looked back at me, turned old, I said, the lines show pain and loss, grave furrows around the eyes. Compassion always for the poor, prayer through the night to end the war, yet I look and get no empathy. Criticism, in plenty.

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The hauntings

Lord, where is hope? I am haunted by the pictures, of children, broken bodies, stumps where legs have been, — Lord where is hope? I am haunted by the bombs, shootings and drones. How can they aim them at human beings? — Lord where is hope? I am haunted by the parents on Bluesky asking for help to feed their children, find a way out and still the world stands by. — Lord where is…

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Christmas 2024

The cold is slowing our brains as we sit in unheated homes the dirty water in our mains, and still bitter Covid roams. — Children wanting this and that, poor parents pulled into a trap, Grandparents only affording tat, and still the prices – where’s the cap? — There’s a Christmas sparkly Fairy, and lights on our empty streets, everyone looks and is so very weary only a few can buy…

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Bartimaeus and Palestine

Bartimaeus, once prospering and well, lost his sight, now unclean, a shell, wears his beggar’s cloak to survive and daily begs to keep himself alive. —- Palestine a state, prospering and safe, lost in shock, shattered their way of life, wear their beggar’s cloak as he did and daily begs for peace in dire strife. — Bartimaeus met Jesus who healed his eyes, shed his cloak, like sloughing…

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Decency can be like morning mist,  warmed by the sun of greed, may  lightly flow away in greying drifts, or veiled by evil’s, darkened day. — Compassion is like the rocky cliffs, ever being pressed and smashed by the increasing anger of the sea of hearts, encased in ego’s stone. 

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The wise man asked, Who do you seek? “God,” we said. — Tell me about your God,” he said. — The voices crowded in: God is big so big the Universe is not big enough for him, He likes it when we listen, God wants us to be wealthy. The good to be healthy. The righteous to be saved. Those who deserve enslaved. He hates gays, hates fights. She believes in Human Rights. Wants us to live…

[graceatthemargins]

The Tiger that’s Brexit

Calmly, docilely, the lean, hungry tiger padded through the brush, its stripes hidden by the grasses of greed, its violence in every sinew hidden by the heat of the power of a bus. ——- Camouflaged by power hungry well fed politicians intent on lies, took food from infants, heat from our homes, poisoned our food, and broke Britain.

[graceatthemargins]

A poem for our times - grace is always needed

[graceatthemargins]

The News

Why is my heart breaking? I hear the news on waking broken babies, hungry children, chilled by killing cold and filthy, midden like rivers flushing toxins harmfully in our seas. — Hitler rising from the grave, to bludgeon and break in waves on those who come for shelter too, friends and good people trembling so, fearful now, troubled hide behind their doors. — My loved ones now at…

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Peace to you all who are the goodness in humanity

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Far Right

Humanity is like the morning mist,  warmed by the sun of greed there  some lightly flows away in drifts, and some hangs low in valleys. —– Compassion is like the rocky cliffs, ever being pressed and smashed by the increasing anger of the sea of hearts, encased with ego’s stone. 

[graceatthemargins]

A fresh look at something old. #Jesus #ross #motherhood

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Kneeling at the Cross

It was the kneeling that showed me, ‘Look up’ came the voice I glanced up and saw a new thing, Jesus as they would have see him. Not a cross as a crucifix,         But bound arms pleading for release to touch, to heal, to tenderly care, but his feet – blood caked, toe nails blackening, his ankles, not visible, for the flies. Everything wants his beloved blood, —– Looking further the…

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#GeneralElection #RefugeeWeek

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Oh God why?

Oh God! Why did you have to die? and leave us to our own devices, devoid of restraint and fuelling vices, Jesus rose and left us behind, his words of love and reconciling abound,  hope lay fallow as they hid and coped, your Spirit came and filled a few, as wind and flame through them blew, your word revived and led them out. —— Oh God! Why did you have to go and let us learn harshness…